


The Simple Truth Between Us Two

by ani_bester



Category: Invaders, Marvel, Marvel 616
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Community: queer_fest, Demisexuality, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ani_bester/pseuds/ani_bester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toro's relationship with his wife is questioned even by his best friends and he looks back on his the life he had with Ann and the life he hopes to get back.</p><p>Based on the prompt: oro Raymond, When people find out that he and Bucky were together during the war, even his closest allies assume Toro's wife was a "beard." They're wrong, but that doesn't make him straight or confused, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Simple Truth Between Us Two

_"I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me" -anonymous_

As soon as he entered the bar, Tom wrinkled his nose. On the surface, the bar was as noisy as any Bucky had dragged Tom to when they were young. It had the same mix of drunks, dames, hooligans, and who knew what else. But beneath that the music was soulless electronic pop and the air lacked the smell of smoke to mask the stench of all the bodies pressed together. Before he could dwell too long on the differences though, movement caught Tom's attention. Bucky sat a table, of course in the back corner, and was waving to him while pointing to the second beer on the table.

Smiling Tom trotted over and picked up the beer before he even sat down. "If this is a light beer, Bucky-" Tom gave his old friend the best menacing look he could manage. Bucky grinned and shook his head.

"Too mean even for a prank." He raised his own glass as though in a cheer and then downed a good bit of it in one gulp.

"What was that to?" Tom asked, lifting his own glass.

Bucky shrugged, "Old friends, good music, cosmic cubes, take your pick."

"New jobs?" Tom asked grinning at his friend. "How is the new gig going by the way."

"I'm not dead," Bucky said, reaching for some cheese fries. "So, I guess I can't complain. Little tired of the publicity though. I thought it was bad when I was Bucky, but these days the press are vultures. Worse than vultures. Hell, I can't even think of a comparison." Bucky shook his head.

"It sorta helped that in the 40's the government didn't allow the press to say nothing bad about you or Steve." Tom mused. "Me and Jim, our press wasn't always so nice." Tom took a drink and chased it with a liberal helping of fries. "Speaking of press feeding frenzies, you think about what those two kids asked you?"

"Billy and Teddy? You mean about Captain America being part of the pride parade this year?"

Tom nodded as he ate more of the fries.

"I might. If I'm going to get bad press no matter what, I may as well get it for doing the right thing. And unlike Steve, I don't have to answer to any politicians the way he did, so if they don't like it-"

Tom washed the fries down with more beer then grinned at Bucky. "Now there's the Bucky I remember," he laughed. "You know, Ann and I were talking about me going as Toro, I'm just not sure I'm comfortable in the short shorts and boots anymore and if I wear the new glad rags no one will-" he cut off noting Bucky looked at him with an odd narrowing of his eyes.

"What's wrong, Buck?"

Bucky finished off his beer and stared at the moister clinging to the empty glass for a moment. He cleared his throat three times before glancing up at Tom. "You want to be in the parade but, you're with Ann again." Bucky's gaze shifted to the left and then up to the ceiling, anywhere but on Tom. "Don't get me wrong pal, I'm sorta glad I missed the 50's and early 60's but these days, I don't understand why you still want to well, be in the closet as they say."

Tom stared in silence at Bucky as his mind went over Bucky's comment six times. Finally, he pushed the beer away and stood up. "Look, Bucky, thanks for the drink."

"Toro -Tom wait,"

Tom pulled out his wallet and laid a few bills on the table. "I know, I got it from everyone ok, and I understand why you think what you think, and when I try to explain you'll still get it wrong or not believe me, and right now I don't have the energy to explain, especially not to you."

Looking at Bucky's down cast expression Tom felt guilt worm into his stomach. He stood their debating, listening to his foot tap against the floor in sync with the beat of the music. "Ok, fine," he groaned. "Fine, I'll stay, but let me out for a smoke first, please?"

Tom didn't even wait for Bucky's nod before heading toward the front door, his cigarette pack already in hand. Once outside, he ducked into a back alley and lit the cigarette with his finger. He considered leaning against the red brick wall, but the pungent smell of the area discouraged him from that. So he just stood there, hand in his pocket, watching the smoke join with the rest of the haze that clung to New York City.

 

**********

 

The cushions of the couch built into the circus trailer wall were worn thin and hard as wood. Tom, however, sat strumming some chords from Brown Eyed Girl, oblivious to all discomfort while he watched Ann talk with his mother. They sat as close as they could, heads together as they discussed cooking details that Tom considered much too complex for just a cake.

The breeze from the fan lifted strands of Ann's long brown hair and brushed them against her cheek. He was glad she hadn't braided it today.

"Would you be ok with one center cake decorated more than others and then several smaller cakes so there is enough for everyone?"

Ann's question snapped Tom back to the reality of the small, hot trailer and he shrugged his shoulders. "That sounds fine. I don't see why we need some giant multi layer cake anyway. It's just an excuse for someone to charge a month's wages for a cake."

"I told you he would be ok with the idea," his mother said. "He's never been fussy so long as he gets fed. I used to tease him that we could give him some of the animal feed and he'd be fine."

Tom smiled at his mother and nodded. "I can't remember the last time I had cake, so really anything at all that you feel is special, just not-"

"Lemon," Ann said. "I know, nothing lemon if you're expected to eat it."

"Isn't it too early to think about cakes though?" Tom asked staring at his mother and Ann in confusion. "We only told you yesterday we were engaged."

"Ignore him," Tom's mother said, patting Ann's hand. "Men never understand."

Tom rolled his eyes as Ann laughed but before he could say anything there was a knock at the trailer door.

"Ellie," Tom's father called. "Is Tom in there? Some rubes out here so they're friends who have stopped by to congratulate him."

Tom stood up in surprise and glanced at Ann, who was frowning at him. "I didn't tell anyone, I swear!" he said, holding up his hands as though he were swearing on a bible. Ann gave him a skeptical look as he followed his father out the door. A few feet away from the trailer stood to a group of three middle aged people. Seeing them he couldn't help but grin.

"Is it an All Winner's reunion and no one told me," Tom called out, striding over to the former third Captain America and his two former sidekicks, the second Bucky and the second Golden Girl.

"Toro!" Tom found himself nearly knocked off his feet as Betsy wrapped her arms around his neck.  
"It's been too long," he said, hugging her back. "At least, it's been too long since we've seen each other when it didn't involve bailing me out of jail for my wayward hippie ways." She laughed, but it was a more nervous laugh and she glanced behind Jeff to Fred. Jeff stood closer to his wife, somehow still standing with all the presence that should be expected of someone who had been Captain America. Behind him Fred shifted and stared at the ground. Tom looked him over, noting that Fred seemed much more at ease in the smart dress of an FBI man than he ever had in the bright blue and red of Bucky's uniform.

Tom bristled and felt his excitement cool as he realized how it was they'd known what so far he'd only told his mother, father, and the graves of Bucky and Jim.

"So I guess my engagement made the FBI news," he said, offering his hand first to Jeff, than to Fred.

Fred shook it and exchanged looks with Jeff and Betsy. "Given you activities, Toro, did you really think -"  
"Oh that's bunk. Given I'm a mutant you mean."

Fred looked away.

"Can we not worry about the politics of how we found out, Tom?" Betsy asked in a softer voice.

Tom sighed and rubbed his shoulder. "Sorry, Betsy, I appreciate your excitement, but couldn't you all have let me tell you on my own and we could have pretended that the FBI didn't monitor me?" Tom felt a pang of guilt over the down turn his mood had taken but reminders that most of the government now considered him a threat, even after all he'd done, always soured his mood.

"Actually, Toro," Jeff put his hand on his shoulder. "We wanted to talk with you before-before things moved to far. It just wasn't something we could tell your father."

Tom folded his arms across his chest and met Jeff's gaze. "Too far?" he asked. He looked at each one of them in turn. "What do you mean by too far? You've already made sure she's not a spy, I'm sure, so what's your issue with Ann?"

Betsy tugged at her gloves and then took a step forward. "You know most of us knew about you and Bucky, right?"

"I know Fred knows, so I assume the whole of the FBI knows, so I assume then you know Betsy, and I suppose you told your husband." He looked over to Jeff trying to confirm if how he'd found out. Jeff met him with a stoic expression and neither confirmed nor denied that his wife had broached the subject.

"I know Maddy gave you trouble over it," Jeff added after a moment. "I heard her telling you exactly what would happen to the whole group if you.... if you were indiscreet with your affections."

"Maddy and I never spoke much, certainly not about the real Bucky, and anything she said is dust in the wind years ago. I don't see it affects me and Ann."

"Tom you have friends, friends who know and accept you - you don't have to- you don't." Betsy looked over at Jeff and Jeff glanced back before stepping forward and putting his hand on Tom's shoulder.

"You don't need to hide, son," Jeff finished. "I watched one of my best friends try that rout and you know how that ended for him. I don't want to speak at any more funerals, Tom."

Tom stared at them incredulously.

"Not everyone is like Maddy," Fred added, straightening his own tie.

Tom shook his head. "Then declassify Bucky and let the public know homosexuals aren't the monsters they want them to be. It can't hurt him now, he's dead and it would do a lot of people a world of good, Fred."

Fred turned his head to the side. "You know that's not my call," he muttered as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Either way, this isn't about public opinion or public good, this is about you." Fred looked up but still didn't meet Tom's gaze. "I know you went through hell with the McCarthy and his goons because of that whole communist brainwashing mess, and now, with the way they're handling mutants and can understand wanting to fit in-"

Tom held up his hands. "I appreciate what you are all saying, I do, but I'm marrying Ann because I love Ann, not because I have anything to hide."

"Toro, you and Bucky-"

"I did love Bucky, but I don't love Ann any less, Betsy."

Now Fred did meet Tom's eyes with a look of pure skepticism. "Really, because you seemed to be much more willing to be "intimate" with Bucky." His New York accent became thicker than it had been and his eyes hardened into a look of challenge.

Tom felt his control over his flames threaten to slip. "I didn't know what I did or didn't do with Ann was any of the FBI's business." Even as he spoke though, he realized why that would be of interest. His eyes narrowed and it took every ounce of his control not to let fire creep into them. "I guess you have to keep track of where potential baby mutants might come from, right?"

He could see the change in Fred's body temperature as he became embarrassed and knew he'd hit the nail on the head. Closing his eyes, he counted to ten, trying to repress the urge to flame on. All that would do is reinforce he could be a threat.

"What I did with Bucky," he began, anger weighing down his words, "I did because I thought that's what two people had to do when they were in love." He shook his head. "And I doubt Bucky would have understood anything different anyways."

"It is what you do when you're in love," Betsy said.

"No," Tom corrected, "It's one possibility. I know you think we were denied this fairy tale ending -no pun intended- but I doubt it would have worked out. What I want and what Bucky wanted wasn't the same. With Ann, it is. Now, I'm going to go back and plan my wedding with my fiancée unless you three intend to forcibly stop me?"

They all shook their heads. Fred turned away first, seeming relieved to be going. Betsy followed him, leaving only Jeff.

"Tom-"

"Trust me. I am happy and we are in love and I'm not hiding."

Jeff nodded but looked unconvinced.

As they walked away, Tom heard Betsy murmur about what how sad it was.

Shaking his head, Tom went back to the trailer and sat next to Ann, resting his head on her shoulder.

"That bad?"

"The FBI knows all, including that I'm a gentlemen and you're a lady." Tom glanced at his mother then back at Ann. "Rest later," he mouthed.

Ann nodded then picked up a wedding book and pointed to the joining of the two candles. "Your mother had an interesting idea about variation on this," she said as she put her arm around Tom's shoulders. Tom smiled at the enthusiasm in her voice.

"I love you," he blurted out.

Ann looked over at him her face bright with a smile. "I know, dear."

 

**********

 

"She looks lovely."

Tom nearly choked as his wine as Roger's gruff voice caught him off guard. He glanced up and winced. Roger was in a mood, maybe aided by the plentiful drink, and right now all Tom had to do was look at his face to know why Roger had taken on the code name "Destroyer". Right now, he watched Ann the way he had watched German sentries. Cold and calculating.

Tom took a long sip of his wine, bracing himself for the inevitable. He knew this had been coming. Roger had been glaring daggers at him and Ann sense they'd walked down the aisle together.

"Yes, yes she does look lovely, she always does." He tried to keep his tone neutral and keep his temperature under control. So far nothing Roger had said warranted anger. Roger said nothing else, so Tom focused back on Ann.

Davey's four year old son, Derrick, was tugging at Ann's wrist, trying to get her to dance again. Laughing, she got up and allowed their ring barer to escort her back to the center of the pavilion; his small dark hand was wrapped firmly around her larger hand. Tom grinned as she began to dance with the child, watching the way her simple white dress moved around her as she twirled Derrick around, lifting him up off his feet. As she spun, she caught Tom's eye and smiled. For a moment Tom forgot Roger was even there.

Roger, however, did not intend to be forgotten.

"Do you think Bucky would have liked this wedding?"

The wine in Tom's glass evaporated. "I think Bucky is decaying in the ocean and probably doesn't think much about my wedding one way or the other."

Tom paused and looked at the empty chair with the white rose on it. Bucky would have been there, his best man. He felt his eyes sting as he looked at the roses, The other on his side for Jim and the three on Ann's "side" for her brothers who had never returned from Vietnam. He was glad she'd insisted on the roses over his idea of personal items. Somehow they worked better, being the only roses in the wedding.

"I suppose you're happy now." Roger's working class British accent was heavier than normal and Tom had to concentrate on understanding him.

"Marrying a pretty bird and settling down just like a good bloke should." Roger sneered then took a long drink of a clear liquid Tom doubted was water. "I think Bucky would be disgusted, mate. I really do."

Tom's shoulders stiffen and for a moment rage wrapped around his brain and he could feel nothing else. Tom had to set the glass in his hand down before he warped it.

"We're in love, Roger. And Bucky isn't here to feel one way or another, but I'd like to think he'd have been happy for me. He and Pappy would have been."

Roger smiled like a hunter just before a kill shot. Tom braced himself for what might be coming.

"Well then, I hope you and your misses enjoy your wedding night," Roger practically snarled.

"I'm sure they will," a softer voice said from behind. Glancing behind him, he saw Maddy. She smiled, but her gaze was locked with Roger's. Tom felt as though he could practically hear the angry exchange between them. Maddy's smile thinned as Roger clenched his fist. Tom coughed and then began to say something, anything, to break the tension, but before he could, Roger slammed an unwrapped object into Tom's hand.

"Your wedding present," he said. Then he turned and walked away. He gait was so stiff, back so straight that Tom though he might actually snap somehow.

Tearing his gaze away from Roger's retreat, Tom looked down and saw a framed photo of him and Bucky. It wasn't one of the publicity shots; it must have been Steve's, or maybe Jim's. The photo showed image of him that he scarcely recognized. In the midst of some hellish section of war torn Europe, a young boy, barely done being a child rested his head against a boy whose eyes were too old for his face. Bucky and Tom gripped each other's hands as though that gesture would keep the other alive. Part of Tom wanted to toss the picture away, tell Ann Roger had given them a frame. But, as much as he hated the sentiment, there were so few picture of him and Bucky together... he set it carefully on the table, then straightened his vest.

"Don't mind him," Maddy murmured, as she hugged Tom. "All the rest of us are happy you find a sweet girl to set you straight."

"Thank you," Tom heard himself answer. He squirmed out of the hug and walked toward Ann. He didn't have the energy to deal with this again.

"Can I dance with Ann now, Derrick?"

Derrick smiled and stepped off from Ann's feet before running over to his mother, scooping to grab a flowering weed as he went.

Tom looked back to his wife and held out his hand. "Hello, Mrs. Raymond," he said as she took his hand.  
She leaned forward resting her head against his chest. "Hello, Mr. Raymond." Ann took both ofTom's hands and began to lead him in a waltz that didn't match the tone of the music, but neither of them minded.

"Are you ok? I saw Roger corner you, then Maddy." Her voice was so soft that even Tom hardly caught the whispered words.

"Roger wanted to let me know I'm betraying Bucky and Maddy wanted to congratulate me on fixing myself."

Ann leaned close against him, inviting Tom to wrap his arms around her. He leaned down, feeling the daisies in her hair brush against his cheek.

"We know what's between us," she murmured.

Tom nodded. "Even if no one else understands."

With a carefree laugh, Ann bounced onto the bed in the trailer she and Tom had been given by his circus. Tom  
caught her joviality and rolled over next to her, "You're in a good mood," he said watching as she spread out across the bed as though claiming it all for herself.

Ann scooted forward in her elbows, crawling close enough to Tom to press her finger against his nose. "It's my wedding night. I think I deserve to be."

Hearing her say 'wedding night' Roger's words came back and Tom flushed and ducked away from her touch.  
"Tom?" Ann asked, as she toyed with the green tie around his neck. "What is it?"

Tom shrugged. "Just, well this will be some wedding night. What exactly do we do?"

Ann tugged on the tie. "Something intimate, of course, silly."

Tom shifted further away from her feeling as though he'd been sucker punched. "Ann," he whispered. He felt his stomach clench and he began to sweat. As her fingers moved through his hair again his mind swam with confusion at her request. But he didn't move away this time. Instead he moved closer to her.

"If- if that's what you want," Tom licked his lips and leaned forward to kiss her. However, a light pressure stopped him from touching his lips to hers. He looked down and saw Ann's fingers against his chest. He raised  
his chin so that he could meet her eyes. "I'm sorry I thought-"

"Intimate," Ann whispered, resting her head against Tom's chest. "It means intensely private." Ann reached up put her hand against Tom's cheek and scooted close to him. "I thought maybe we could share something, something we've never told anyone else before. Unless you think it sounds silly, then maybe you could read to me, I like just listening to you."

Tom leaned closer and kissed her cheek. "No, that sounds perfect, and, umm there's a lot actually I've never told anyone, even you." Tom began to brush his fingers through Ann's hair

"Then tell me now," Ann murmured. "As much as you want."

Tom nodded. "I- I'm not sure where-" he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth from Ann's body, listening to her breathe.

"Do you remember when you told me it was a shame I couldn't see the colors of the world the way you could on a trip?"

Ann smiled a bit. "I think I said something like that while you were with me, but it's all a little fuzzy.".

Tom chuckled. "Well, I do see colors, actually. I "see" heat. It took me the longest time to understand what was meant when people described colors. I still don't know that I know, not really. Everything shifts into different shades of color depending on how much heat it has. I don't feel heat the way Jim did, I see it." Tom gave Ann a gentle smile. "Right now, you're a color I think of as orange, with bits of red and green where you are warmer or colder."

"Think of?"

Tom grinned. "Think about it. I've never seen the way you do, so if you tell me green is the color of grass, I've no idea if what I see is the green you see."

Ann was silent a moment then she pressed her forehead against her husband's. "That actually sounds wonderful, to see like that. Why didn't you ever tell anyone? Not even Jim?"

"Jim liked thinking we were the same, so I didn't always talk about how I noticed our powers being different. Everyone else, I didn't figure they'd understand. I don't want to be a spectacle unless I choose to be one."

He looked and Ann and rubbed her shoulders a little bit. "Your turn?"

Ann closed her eyes and for a moment she didn't move except to tug at a strand of long hair. "I ran away from my first fiancée. I was marrying him because- because there was a baby, but I- couldn't keep it Tom, I..." she began to shake in Tom's arms and Tom held her tight against him.

"I love you," he murmured. "Always, Ann, always."

 

**********

 

Tom held his wife in his arms, listening to her cry and feeling his own heart break. He glanced at the Donald Duck clock on the wall. She'd been crying for nearly 30 minutes now and Tom felt more helpless the longer she cried.

"Ann," he murmured, "Ann I'm not mad at you. How could I be? You are what you are and I'm thankful you told me."

Ann took a deep breath and looked down at Tom. "I don't understand," she whispered. Her voice rough as she suppressed her tears once again. "I don't. I didn't lie Tom. I swear I was honest with you."

"I've never doubted it." He rested his head against her knee. "Ann, we've been married for four years and together three before that. I believe you when you say you didn't feel like this before. Of course I still love you. If you need to cry because it upsets you, I understand. But please don't cry because you're worried I'll leave. I wouldn't, and I won't."

Ann looked up at him and made a soft sound, then flung her arms around Tom's neck, squeezing him. Tom could see the warmth of her skin increase, the heat blooming in her cheeks then moving down her neck, along her small shoulders. He pulled her close and ran his finger slowly down her back until he reached the end of her shirt. Tugging at the white cotton, Tom pulled the blouse loose from her jeans. The color of her skin shifted again and Tom blew on her cheek. Instead of cooling her down, he watched heat spread further.

"Tom," Ann whispered, "You don't need to- I wouldn't ask this of you."

He untucked her shirt completely from her pants. "I know."

Ann put her hand over his and looked up. "You don't have to," she repeated in a trembling voice.

"I know," he said again. He raised his hand and brushed Ann's cheek. "Which is why I don't mind right now." He kissed her on the forehead, then on then on her mouth when she began to protest on his behalf once again. "Ann," he murmured. "God knows, I'm not incapable of this, and I do love you." Tom was cut off as Ann kissed him. It wasn't demanding as Bucky's had been, it was softer, almost chaste. He smiled up at her than stood and held out his hand. After hesitating for a few ticks of the second hand, Ann nodded and accepted his offer.

The next morning, Tom was humming over a frying pan as he tried to coax the eggs into a perfect omelet. He caught a bit of movement on his left and turned in time to see Ann tie her short red robe around herself.

"Good morning," Tom chirped.

Ann did not respond; instead, she picked up the mug of coffee Tom had waiting for her and sat at the stable. She faced the window but her gaze appeared to be inward. Tom guessed there could be an explosion out that window and Ann would not react.

He turned the burner off; it would ruin any chance of good omelets, but scrambled eggs would suffice. He picked up his own mug of coco and went to sit beside Ann.

"I don't know what changed," Ann whispered. "I really don't." She kept brushing her hair behind her ear, even though it wasn't out of place. "All the stupid men who wanted this from me, all those damn years, and who do I end up wanting?" She shook her head and exhaled loudly.

Tom reached out and warmed her coffee back up with his hand.

"It's not fair to you, Tom. I wasn't fair last night."

Tom scooted his chair closer. "Ann, do you remember at before the wedding you spent six months learning that flame transfer trick because I was so taken with my mother’s the idea that we could each hold a flame and have them conjoin?"

And nodded.

"You burned you hand so much, Ann, but kept at it. Why?"

"It- It was-"

"Because you love me?" Tom asked it in a soft voice. He took her hands in his and smiled as just as shy as he'd been on their first date.

Ann laughed a bit as she wiped her eyes. "You make everything too simple Tom, you know that. But, yes, because I love you."

Tom patted Ann's hand. "Then trust me that I love you too and you're attraction is not such a horrible thing that I'd leave. You respect me and I'll respect you and I'm sure there's a middle ground we can reach. Sorta like when you insist on cooking that terrible fish. I still won't eat more than a bite but I don't flee the whole house when you cook it now. And to be nice to me, even though it's your favorite dish, you only cook it maybe once a month, if that."

Ann started with a small chuckle which grew until she had let go of Tom's hand and was holding her side as she laughed. . "I think it will be harder than that, Tom," she said. "But-" She reached out and brushed her fingers through his hair and Tom leaned a little closer.

"I know," he admitted. "But I know you weren't lying before, so I know you understand how I feel. And… and-" He stood and went over to Ann, hugging her tightly. "We'll still work," he promised.

He could feel Ann nodding her head against him, "Yes," she whispered. "Yes we do."

 

**********

 

As he stood outside the door to Ann's small apartment with flowers gripped firmly in one hand, Tom found himself staring at the old tarnished peephole that had been jammed into a hole meant for a smaller model. As he gazed at it, Tom had the urge to cover it up, but fought it. This wasn't 1951 anymore and he doubted Ann would find it as funny as she used to. From what he'd seen so far of this brave new world, Tom couldn't blame her.

He heard the click as one lock was undone, followed by three more before the door creaked open. Tom couldn't say anything he just grinned at her and clutched the bouquet of daisies tighter. After a few seconds, he thrust them out at her. "It's good to see you," he gasped out.

Ann's face lit up as she saw them and she took them into her arms as eager as a young girl on her first date.

"You remember," she said, as she went to the cupboard and began to search for a suitable vase-like cup.

Tom felt himself flush and nodded. "I'm glad you liked them; I worried you'd think I was moving too fast what with Mr. Wilkins.. .um..." Tom trailed off and pulled at his collar and watched as she filled a tall glass with water, carefully put the daisies in, then set it on the end table beside the door.

"I'll cut the stems and spruce that up a bit later," Ann said as she ushered Tom to the couch. "And, Richard left me two weeks ago, so I don't think it's too early for flowers, especially from a man I know isn't going to insult me later because he thinks giving me flowers is some sort of trade agreement."

Tom smiled at her and patted the couch cushion beside him. "What are we watching tonight?" he asked as Ann came over with a bowl of kettlecorn he hadn't seen her fetch.

"I thought we could work on getting you caught up with Disney, and then maybe some Gunsmoke," Ann suggested as she sat down beside him. Tom nodded and leaned over against her, "Sounds good to me," he agreed as he reached over to grab some of the sweet popcorn.

Tom woke from a light doze to find Ann holding his hand and just watching him. He glanced at the TV as he stretched. The show had ended and the programming had moved onto an infomercial for some weight system that to Tom looked more like a one of the nefarious torture devices from a comic book.

"I guess Gunsmoke isn’t as riveting as I remember," he said giving Ann a sheepish grin. He glanced at the daisies and noticed she'd found an actual vase. The small apartment smelled like grass and earth now, so Tom guessed she'd cut the stems before putting them into the green vase.

He glanced over at the clock, the same Donald Duck they'd found a rummage sale decades ago. "It's late," he murmured, rubbing his eyes. "Should a head out, or- or can I crash here?"

Ann let go of his hand to tuck some of her gray hair behind her ear. She worried a few strands between her fingers a few moments, while she stared at the infomercial as it paraded through a legion of woman who claimed to have lost weight.

Tom began to tug at his collar. "Ann?"

Ann looked over at him, continuing to play with her hair. "Everyone is saying you'll get together again with Bucky," she whispered.

Tom snorted. "I don't, and I think I matter the most."

Ann looked at him and Tom couldn't decide if it was with hope or doubt. Her expression seemed caught somehow between the two. "Bucky and I, we won't want the same things. We worked because I didn't know I could love him but not want him. I know now, and I do love him, but not enough to pretend for him."

Ann shook brought her hand to her mouth for a moment "I haven't changed though." She reached out and touched his shoulder. "I thought it was maybe a fluke, but it wasn't. Watching you sleep just now, I know I'm still the same."

"So you're close enough to me emotionally to desire me, but at least you know what it felt like relating to people asexually and, and well come right down to it, I want to try to make this work like we were going to before I up and got myself killed. Only thing I'm worried about is do you mind how young I look? It's not quite Harold and Maud but pretty darn close."

A slow smile spread across Ann's face. "If Mr, Hefner can marry actual 25 year olds I'm not going to feel awkward for one second dating a man born 15 years before me just because you look just under 30. Besides we knew you looking younger than me was a possibility when you proposed."

Her voice quivered as at the end of her sentence and for a moment, Tom thought Ann was going to cry. Then, with a start, he realized there was wetness on his own cheeks. Feeling a little foolish, he wiped at his own cheeks. "I love you, Ann."

"I love you too," Ann said as she leaned against Tom. Tom reached for the remote control and clicked the TV until he found a black and white movie. Thirty minutes into it he was yawning and glanced toward Ann's bedroom, but from the feel of Ann's breathing against him, he guessed she nodded off. Not wanting to wake her, Tom reached for a throw Ann kept over the couch and pulled it over them both.

 

**********

 

"Can I bum a drag from you, pal?"

Tom looked up to see Bucky's silhouette framed by the opening of the alley. He had his hands in his pockets and was walking over toward Tom.

Tom exhaled smoke and offered his cigarette to Bucky. "Thought you were trying to quit."

"I am, that's why I asked for a drag," Bucky said as he brought the cigarette to his lips then passed it back to Tom. "Sorry," he mumbled, staring down at his feet.

Once upon a time, Tom might have given Bucky a hard time, teased him that the great James Barnes was apologizing. Tonight, however, he just nodded and took another drag from his cigarette.

"I'm asexual, Buck." Tom said after a moment's silence between them. He could already see the question on Bucky's eyes and just shook his head. "I know what we did, but it doesn't change what I am."

 

Bucky's mouth shut and he stared at the ground for a long moment. Tom smoked the cigarette to a nub before Bucky looked up again.

"And Ann?"

"When we married, we though asexual, turns out demisexual, and I say that with her permission," Tom added.

Bucky shook his head and gave Tom a lost look. "A what?"

Tom tossed his butt onto the ground and then put his hand on Bucky's shoulder. "You gotta be cold, I can see your breath and see your temperature." Tom warmed the air around Bucky a little. "Also, I'll be happier explaining things with hot chocolate and homemade food," he said as he put his other hand on Bucky's other shoulder and began to steer him out of the alley.

Bucky tried to say something, but Tom cut him off.

"Ann will be more than glad to explain, I'm sure, so long as you let her show off the shirt she made for the Pride Parade. She is dying to show it to someone other than me. I'm apparently too biased. It says 'Demisexual for 66 years: No It Wasn't Just Made up.'" Tom grinned as he thought of Ann's excited gestures as she modeled her shirt and discussed what she'd make for him. "She says if she has to be old, she may as well use it to her advantage. She was always good with signs and slogans and stuff."

Bucky strained his neck so he could turn and look at Tom. "Asexual?" he said again.

Tom nodded his head and pushed Bucky toward the cabs with one hand while he reached into the his pocket for his cell to give Ann a heads up that he'd be bringing home company.

_"Love is saying 'I feel differently' instead of 'You're wrong.'" -anonymous_


End file.
